


Stories from a Couch

by whatdoidowiththisthingnow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoidowiththisthingnow/pseuds/whatdoidowiththisthingnow
Summary: Yeah, I'm not sure how I got here either. Lol. I started writing this for Sanvers Week on Tumblr, and ended up spinning three stories into chapters in a little trilogy that more or less all revolves around Alex's couch.





	1. Intro & Part One: Maggie & Kara

**INTRO**

Alex’s old couch fit four adults easily, although for Alex, Maggie and Kara, it felt small, uncomfortable even, for longer than any of them would ever admit now. Back then, Alex felt torn between the closeness of sisters and the very different closeness of new love. She always felt like she had to choose one or the other, each of the people she loved keenly aware of who she picked on a given night, like they were keeping score. 

But that wall was long gone, and the bond between Maggie and Kara only made Alex love them both that much more. Funnily enough, it was exactly that bond that eventually required her to get a brand new couch…

 

**PART ONE: MAGGIE & KARA**

Kara walks right into Alex’s apartment without knocking. The door unlocked, she just assumed her sister was home. Instead, she finds Maggie padding around the kitchen barefoot, in a t-shirt and jeans, making dinner, singing along softly to the music playing in the background.

Maggie thought it was Alex, so when she looks up and sees Kara, her face falls slightly. Kara notices. Maggie tries to recover, greets her with a smile, but Kara misses it when she turns around to close the door. 

“Hey, Kara.”

“Hi Maggie. Sorry, I was just…looking for Alex. Is she home?”

Maggie shakes her head, but has to turn her attention back to the contents in the pan in front of her before it burns, “She had to run to the store.”

Kara stands awkwardly in the middle of the open apartment, “Oh.”

Maggie looks back at her, tries to ease the tension, “She should be back in a few minutes. Stay for dinner. I made stir fry.”

“Uh…ok. Sure.” She’s polite, but she’s hesitant. Maggie is busy turning off the burners, covering the food, throwing dishes in the sink. Kara sits on the couch, but it’s…awkward. She sits in the corner, feet on the floor, arms across her waist. She stares at the wall, mind at war with itself—staying or going, talking or not talking. She decides on silence, on staring at the wall.

Maggie catches a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye. It would be funny—Kara sitting there like she’s waiting outside the principal’s office—but even as she almost laughs, guilt pangs her stomach. She knows Kara is at home here, always. Always, except…except when Maggie is here. She’s aware of the tension, but also unsure of the root of it and—more importantly—how to fix it. She really does like Kara, they just…always seem a little off. Like they’re always holding back—just a little—and never saying exactly what they want too. Always a little too polite.

She shuts the dishwasher and sees the bottle of wine of the counter. She snags it, pours two glasses, and plops herself down on the couch. She sits close to Kara, tucking her feet underneath her, and holds out one of the glasses.

Kara’s surprised by Maggie’s presence and her boldness, until she hears her heartbeat—it’s quickness, her nervousness. She feels bad about that, for Alex’s sake as well as Maggie’s. She likes Maggie, and she loves how happy she makes her sister, she just…doesn’t feel like family. Not quite yet. She can’t really say why, but she’s trying. She accepts the wine, “Thank you.”

Maggie nods. They sit like that for a beat, awkward and close, sizing each other up. Kara chews the inside of her cheek and Maggie takes a long sip of wine. Maggie gathers courage first, turns to look Kara square in the face and takes a deep breath, “Alright. Let’s have it, Kara. Whatever you’re hanging onto, will you just tell me? I thought…I don’t know…I just want us to be past this. The awkwardness is too much. It’s killing me. Let’s do it now. Whatever you want to know, or say…right now. Just say it.”

Kara says the first thing that pops in her head, “Will you teach me how to ride a motorcycle?”

Maggie falters. Whatever she thought Kara was going to say, this was…not even close. She opens her mouth, shuts it again, “What? Yeah, of course…I guess. Sure.” Then she remembers, “Wait—why me? Why not Alex? Or James?”

A grin sneaks across Kara’s face, but she tries to act innocent, “They don’t trust me.”

Maggie laughs, shakes her head. She dropped her guard for _one_ second…and fell right into a trap. _Forgive me, Alex,_ she thinks, “I am so gonna pay for that, aren’t I?” Kara just shrugs. She laughs to herself, “Anything else you’d like to con me into?”

Kara shakes her head and takes a sip of wine. She thinks, “Favorite movie?”

“Stand By Me.”

Kara tilts her head, makes a mental note to Google that later, “Favorite song?”

Maggie exhales, “Oohf. That’s tough. Can I get back to you?”

Kara accepts that, nods. “Favorite food?”

“Tiramisu,” they answer together. Kara remembered right after she asked it. They laugh. They toast their glasses and take a sip, relax a little. Kara pulls her legs up, sits crosslegged. Her eyes narrow.

“Did you always want to be a cop?”

Maggie’s smile falls a little, “Not always, not necessarily. But I always wanted to help people…” she finishes that sentence in her mind, but Kara guesses correctly:

“…the way no one helped you.” She says it quietly, gently, but her eyes are on Maggie. 

“Yeah.” Maggie meets them reluctantly. 

She sees the sadness, but also compassion in Kara’s eyes. Kara puts a hand on her knee, “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

Maggie knows she means it. “Thanks, Kara.” They let the moment last a little longer.

Kara squeezes Maggie’s knee before she lets go and puts her wine glass on the table. Her eyes glitter when she looks back at Maggie. “Alright…guilty pleasure?” She wants dirt. Mostly good intentions, of course, just something maybe no one else knows about her, something she can have for just them.

 _Shit._ The first thing that comes to her mind makes Maggie visibly wince. She closes her eyes and immediately wishes herself anywhere but this couch, tries to get her brain to come up with another answer…any other answer…but of course, now she can’t. Dammit. _Dammit._ She slowly opens one eye, sees Kara staring at her, poorly containing her excitement. She contemplates lying, because this…this is going to be the end of her dignity. She opens both eyes, and Kara looks like an excited puppy, a little kid all over again…and she knows she can’t lie to that face. She sighs, reluctantly groans, “…musicals.”

Kara practically leaps out of her seat. She grabs Maggie so tight, Maggie has to clap her hard on the back, remind her of her strength through crushed ribs, crushing lungs, “Kara!” she gasps.

Kara pulls back quickly, “Oh my God, sorry! I’m sorry! Are you ok?” Maggie catches her breath, gives a thumbs up. Knowing she’s ok, Kara grins wickedly at Maggie, “Wait, wait—does Alex know about this?”

Maggie blushes, “Not yet, I don’t think so.”

Kara squeals, “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun!” 

Maggie thinks this will be distinctly the opposite of fun. She picks up her wine, takes a long sip. Kara can’t help it, she has to know, “Favorite musical?” she asks. Her eyes wide, giddy, behind her own wine glass.

Maggie is not ashamed of that answer, “Funny Face.” she says, matter-of-factly.

Kara practically knocks her over pulling her into another hug. This time though, she doesn’t have to be reminded of her strength. They were both holding half-full wine glasses, and when Kara lunges for Maggie the glasses crash, shattering glass, spilling wine all over them, between them, raining down on them from above. That makes Kara pull away immediately.

They look around in shock for a minute, Maggie is about to stand and get towels but Kara grabs her arm. She looks at her wide-eyed, terrified, _“ALEX IS GOING TO KILL ME.”_

Maggie bites her lip, puts her hands on Kara’s shoulders, “Then we better get cleaning, huh?”

Kara nods furiously. They jump up and race through the apartment to clean the mess. Kara handles the glass—unbreakable skin and all—Maggie mops up the wine as best she can. Surprisingly, only one couch cushion seems to have taken on irreparable damage. Kara panics, “We can’t hide that!”

Maggie smirks, “Sure we can.” She pulls the couch cushion off and flips it over to the clean side. She puts her hands up, shrugs, _How about that?_ and Kara puts her hand up for a high five. Maggie obliges, laughing—and then the door shuts.

Maggie and Kara jump. Kara tries to recover, act natural, “Heyyy Alex.”

Maggie tries too, “I—I made dinner. Stir fry. You—you hungry?”

Alex’s eyes go between the two of them, standing there, guilty as hell, their clothing—because they hadn’t even thought about that yet—splattered with red wine. Alex wants to ask—she has so many questions—but seeing them high five, laughing…she’s stunned, truthfully. She says the only thing she can spit out in the moment, “Kara! I didn’t know you were coming for dinner.”

Kara stutters, adjusting her glasses, “Uh…yeah. Yeah, I came by to ask you something, but uh…you weren’t here. Uh…Maggie asked me to stay. Is that ok?”

Alex looks to Maggie, who puts a hand on Kara’s shoulder just then, says earnestly, “You’re always welcome here, Kara.”

Alex is surprised at Maggie’s words, but more surprised at Maggie’s touch, and according to her face, so is Kara. But Kara says nothing, so Alex says nothing. Alex rounds the couch, reminds herself to question this further…but later. She lands a kiss on Maggie’s cheek, then Kara’s, “Well let’s eat. I’m starving.” 

Maggie gently pushes Kara in front of her toward the kitchen. “We’ll get dinner. Why don’t you go sit down, babe?” She gives Alex a quick kiss, then watches her head to the table while they walk to the stove. She reaches out to Kara in front of her and squeezes her sides playfully, making Kara giggle. With their backs turned, she gives her a wink, and whispers so only Kara can hear, “Our secret.”

Alex looks on at the scene unfolding before her, still too stunned to say anything. But she sees Kara giggling, Maggie relaxing, both of them tearing down whatever wall was between them before, and she decides to live with the happiness.

Alex’s feels like home again. Not only for Kara, but for Maggie too.

...


	2. Part Two: Alex & Maggie

**PART TWO: ALEX & MAGGIE**

She didn’t think it would feel that different—being engaged—but there’s something…permanent about it. Permanent in a way Maggie never could imagine her life would be. A way she never thought she would love.

Until recently, of course. Now, she couldn’t imagine it any other way.

But still…they’re learning. And it’s not always easy. The road to their happily ever after requires making decisions, which requires discussions, which sometimes…occasionally…means arguments. 

And boy, did they argue tonight.

Over the couch.

Seriously…the damn couch.

They’d avoided a lot of the pettiness they’d seen in other peoples relationships. They talked openly, honestly, and kindly almost all of the time. Both of them surrounded by enough drama and divisiveness in their work lives and past lives to know that they never wanted to intentionally cause the other that kind of pain. True fights happened rarely. Most were small and dissolved quickly.

One time, it starts with “You’re loading the dishwasher wrong.” 

Maggie pokes her head over the counter, staring at Alex in the living room as if she had just told her she had three heads. “If the dishes come out clean, how can it possibly be wrong?”

Alex closes her book, sighing, “The cups have to go on the left, and the bowls go on the right.”

Maggie knows her tone is serious, but she simply raises her eyebrows and continues loading them “wrong” anyway. She isn’t about to redo it. Alex huffs and stalks over. So, naturally, Maggie hurries the dishwasher shut and flips it on. It locks automatically and starts the cycle. 

Alex is _not_ pleased. Maggie is betting she can change that. 

“Mag, they won’t get clean!” she whines, just on the edge of anger.

Maggie holds her ground, holds her back against the dishwasher, calm, “I promise you, they will.”

Alex crosses her arms, gives her a look that says she is not playing games. Maggie takes that as a challenge.

She steps slowly toward Alex, invading her space, but not quite touching her. She gives Alex her best puppy dog face—head tilt, dimples and all—but Alex doesn't flinch. So Maggie tries another tactic. 

She brings her hands to the sides of Alex’s waist, dances her fingers under the hem of Alex’s t-shirt, skimming her waist softly, slowly. She feels the goosebumps on Alex’s stomach, feels her skin dance under her hands. But Alex is stubborn. Her body may be betraying her, but she won’t let her face show it.

Maggie smirks and bites her bottom lip, but Alex holds strong. “I was trained in psychological warfare. I’m a secret agent in a government black-ops unit. I can withstand—” And Maggie suddenly pulls her waist hard and fast, pulls her against her own body. Alex’s hands automatically reach out to Maggie’s shoulders to catch her balance, and she gasps. She exhales the end of her sentence, barely above a whisper “—torture.”

Maggie’s eyes burn hot. She feels Alex’s body melt against her own, feels her tension, her annoyance, fade. She knows she’s got her now, so she keeps going. She slips her hands in Alex’s back pockets and pulls her impossibly closer—tighter. She puts her mouth up to her ear, gently bites at her earlobe, earning a low moan from Alex, and Alex’s hands through her hair. She whispers low, “I’m not sure we’re talking about the same kind of torture…”

Maggie could load the dishwasher however she wanted after that.

But today was…different. 

Today, they couldn’t use their hands, their mouths, their bodies, to will the other into compromise. Today, the emotions went deeper. Tempers ran hotter. Today, the fight held real pain. 

And they felt it.

Maggie’d had an awful day at the precinct. She had to stand as backup and watch other cops follow through on an arrest warrant for a single mother accused of distributing drugs and child abuse…among other things. 

She had to stand and watch CPS take three terrified little kids away from their home, their life, their mother. She had to watch the oldest boy try to comfort his crying sisters, not shedding a single tear himself. She had to watch them get loaded into a van and taken away. 

She watched them pull away knowing their world was turning upside down, much like hers had so many years ago. She watched them pull away knowing they were headed for foster care. 

And so she watched them pull away praying, _praying_ , they’d end up in the good kind. And she spent the rest of her day with her mind caught up in moments she’d really hoped she’d forgotten. Moments she hadn’t thought of in…well, in quite a while, actually…now that she thought about it.

By the time her shift ended she’d dug herself into a painful hole she couldn’t climb out of, and she was angry at everything. Angry at that mother for her poor decision making. Angry at her own parents for their poor decisions. Angry at foster parents who didn’t give a damn about the kids they were responsible for. Angry at the system in general that forced her to witness the whole thing.

She turned the corner of their street white-knuckling the steering wheel and seething. Seeing their building, her home, snapped her out of her anger just enough that she started taking deep breaths to calm herself, to try not to bring all that pain inside with her. Then she pulled up to the curb to see Alex’s couch— _their_ couch—sitting on the curb outside the building. That sent her spiraling back into anger, and by the time she got in the door, she’d worked herself up again, and she was _livid._

A new couch was in the middle of their living room, looking so out of place to her. Too new, too big, too clean. Alex was in the kitchen finishing up dinner when Maggie walked in, greeting her with a smile like everything was fine, everything was normal. A smile that on most days, made Maggie swoon.

“Hey babe, how was your day?"

“What the hell is this?” Maggie’s standing with one hand on her hip, one held out, gesturing at the couch.

Alex turns around. “Oh…” Her face a little confused, a little apologetic. “I ordered that a while ago. With everything that’s been going on, I actually forgot about it until they called me this afternoon to say they were dropping it off.” She registers Maggie’s anger and tries to address it, “I know it’s not quite the same as the old one, but…” she gives it a once over and shrugs, “it’s ok I guess?”

Maggie throws down her keys and her bag. “You didn’t think to tell me?” 

Alex tries to read her face, figure out where the anger is coming from, but she has to turn her attention to the stove, to dinner. “I’m sorry, like I said, I forgot all about it! I ordered it…I don’t know…” she thinks back, “almost two months ago?” 

Maggie kicks off her boots, seething silently on her way to the bedroom to change. Alex finishes quickly in the kitchen and by the time she’s made it to the bedroom, Maggie has changed, but is now somehow angrier. 

Alex puts a hand gently, gently, on Maggie’s side, but Maggie pulls away like it’s fire. Alex flinches, tears threatening to spring up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I should’ve told you. I was too busy rushing back from the DEO and helping the moving guys shuffle things around and then…I was making dinner…” 

Maggie relaxes just slightly. She knows she’s being immature, but she’s still hurt. 

“…I didn’t think it was a big deal.” The sentence comes out of her mouth before she can take it back, and Alex regrets it immediately. She braces herself. 

Any tension Alex had eased is back in spades. “You didn’t think it was a _big deal?”_

“I didn’t mean…I’m sorry. That came out wrong—” Alex backpedals. She pleads. 

Maggie doesn’t hold back now, “I’m sorry, Alex. I know this is _your_ apartment, _your_ couch, but I thought it was _our_ apartment now. I thought this was _our_ home. My home. Which means I get a say in things too. Or is that not how this works?" 

“Of course it’s our home, Maggie. _Of course_ you get a say—” Alex tries, but Maggie cuts her off, almost yelling now. 

“I deserve to be heard, Alex! I deserve to be asked, to be considered. You can’t just go ahead and make all the decisions without even telling me!” 

“Whoa, whoa…Hold on.” Alex goes on offense. “It’s a couch, Maggie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’ve apologized for that. If it bothers you so much, we can take it back—” 

“That’s not the point!” 

“What _is_ the point?!” 

Maggie is angrier than Alex has ever seen, “You didn’t even think to tell me? It never once occurred to you to consult the other person living here, you know, your _fiancée?!”_

Alex tries to reel her in, even slightly, “Ok. You’re right. Please, just…talk to me. Just calm down.” 

Maggie scoffs, “You do _NOT_ get to decide that for me, Alex.” 

That cuts deeper than she intended. 

The tears Alex was holding back finally spill over, starting down her cheeks. They’re not going to get anywhere this way, but Maggie’s not backing down. Alex knows she’s talking—shouting, really—without saying what she actually means. But Alex is not going to stand here and be yelled at. She waits a few seconds, tries to see through the anger on Maggie’s face, but Maggie can hardly look at her. Not right now. 

So Alex resigns. She turns her back on Maggie standing in the bedroom, stone-faced, shaking in anger. 

The silence is as deafening as the shouting. 

Alex heads to the door and quietly pulls on her jacket, her boots. She grabs her keys with one last look to Maggie, now sitting on the edge of the bed, but Maggie still isn’t looking at her. She can’t. 

Alex doesn’t even slam the door when she leaves. Maggie wishes she would. Then she could justify a little bit more of her anger. The door clicks quietly shut and Maggie surrenders to her own tears. 

That was three hours ago. 

Alone in the dark, quiet apartment, Maggie sits curled up in the armchair, staring down the couch. If she were Kara, she would’ve burned it to the ground hours ago. 

_Actually…_ she almost thinks to text Kara, ask if Alex is there. But she knows Alex could be anywhere, and if she’s not with Kara, the text would just send her into a panic. Instead she checks her watch. It’s past 10. She catches her reflection, eyes red and puffy from crying, even though she’s long been out of tears. She takes a moment to replay their whole argument in her mind and manages to laugh to herself… _I guess this is technically a first._ She tells herself to remind Alex of that…later, though. Maybe tomorrow. 

She stares at the couch again. The stupid couch that sparked her anger. And Lord…there was so, so much anger. More than even she knew she still carried. And Alex… _god,_ Alex. 

Now that she’d calmed down, she knew she _was_ actually a little upset about the couch—not really the couch itself, more what it represented. But mostly, she also knew, she was over-exhausted and bitter and on-edge after work…so when she saw it, she overreacted. And that was not Alex’s fault. Or the couch’s. 

She slowly uncurls herself from the chair and stands in front of the couch for a second considering it, thinking. _Just sit on it already. It’s only a couch. It’s actually…it’s way bigger than our last couch._ She sits, reluctantly. 

And it’s also really comfortable. 

“Dammit,” she mumbles to herself. 

The sound of the door opening makes her jump, but it’s Alex. She breathes. She waits. 

Alex doesn’t look at her, not at first. She kicks off her shoes, shrugs out of her jacket and finds Maggie sitting in the middle of the couch. She tries to read her face—her temperament—before she speaks. “I see you two have made amends.” It could be a joke, but it’s quiet. It’s careful. 

Maggie looks sorry, but all she says is, “Come here. Please?” 

Alex does. Despite her own anger, her hurt, she trusts Maggie, loves Maggie. She sits with a distance between them though. Not quite ready to forgive. 

Maggie tries to bridge the distance with her words first, “I am so, so sorry, Alex.” She reaches a hand out to Alex, but stops short, dropping it on her own leg at the last second. 

“That was really unfair of me, and I am sorry for how I acted,” she adds, “…over a couch.” The word makes her laugh just a little. But Alex doesn’t laugh. She’s still searching Maggie’s face for more. 

“I think this may be about more than the couch.” 

Maggie shrugs, looks up at Alex a little embarrassed, “It was a little bit about the couch.” 

Now Alex laughs, “Is it really that bad?” 

Maggie takes Alex hand and is grateful that Alex doesn’t pull it away. “No, it’s fine. It’s actually really comfortable, which makes it so much harder to be mad about.” 

Alex puts her other hand on Maggie’s cheek, “I promise not to buy any more new furniture without you.” 

Maggie turns and kisses the inside of her palm. “I appreciate that.” 

Alex knows there’s more. She’s waiting to hear what Maggie has to say, but Maggie only flips Alex’s hand in hers and traces circles into her palm, staring down at it, avoiding Alex’s gaze.

Alex pushes a little, “You gotta talk to me, Mags. You’re allowed to be angry, ok? You’re even allowed to be angry at me…” she laughs a little, “although I’d prefer you weren’t.” Maggie smiles, meets her eyes briefly. “Talk to me? Please?” 

Maggie sighs, nods, “I had a bad day at work. Watched some kids get taken off to foster care while their mom was arrested. I just…It brought back a lot of memories. Of me, my own childhood, that feeling of helplessness…” A tear falls down her cheek and Alex gently, gently wipes it away. Ironically, her kindness makes Maggie tear up more. “I just…I don’t know…to come home and see that stupid couch sitting out on the curb…out with the garbage…it felt like…like the day I found my stuff on the curb.” 

She gathers the strength to look up at Alex. She sees the tears in her eyes too—she’s hurt, but she’s not angry. Maggie continues. “That couch felt like a part of us, you know? A part of our story. There’s a lot of memories there. Seeing it out like that… It felt like you could take a piece of us—of me—and just throw it away without telling me.” 

Alex’s heart breaks. “Mags—” She takes Maggie’s face into her hands, kisses her forehead, and makes sure she’s looking right at her. “I would never, ever, throw away any part of you—or of us. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. That was so far from my intention.” 

>Maggie is grateful, even if slightly embarrassed at the amount of feelings she has over something as silly as a couch. “I know, I just…I panicked.” A small sparkle comes back into her eyes, “We had some good times on that couch.” 

Alex laughs and kisses her, “Yeah, we did.” 

Alex puts her arms around Maggie, holds her close. “I never want to get rid of any of those memories, Mags.” She waits for Maggie’s breathing to calm, waits for her to relax into her more. “But…you know…we’ve needed a new couch since you and Kara ruined the last one.” 

Maggie pulls away, hand flying over her mouth, “You knew?!” 

Alex laughs, kisses Maggie’s shocked face, “Instantly. Like…as soon as I walked in the door.” 

Maggie laughs, shaking her head. Alex pulls her to her chest again, “I would normally be mad at you two for lying to me but…that was the moment you guys started becoming sisters. I couldn’t take that from you. Either of you.” 

Maggie looks up and pulls her into a long, sweet kiss, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Alex stares at her for just a little longer, pushes her hair behind her ear, “You know…it also means we get to make new memories on this couch…” 

Maggie grins—dimples on full display, love in her eyes—and raises an eyebrow, “Oh, I have a few ideas…” 

... 


	3. Part Three: Alex & Maggie & Kara & James & Lena & Winn & J’onn & M’gann

**PART THREE: ALEX & MAGGIE & KARA & JAMES & WINN & J’ONN & M’GANN**

When Alex bought the new couch, first, she made sure it was wine-resistant. Second, she found the biggest one that would fit in the apartment. After Maggie’s initial issues over the couch wore off, she remembers wondering why Alex would choose one so… _large_ …for their little apartment.

Now…a few months later…she totally gets it.

It sure doesn’t take long for that couch to feel small again. First, it’s Maggie and Alex. Then Maggie, Alex, and Kara. Pretty quickly it’s Maggie, Alex, Kara, Winn and James. Sometimes J’onn and M’gann. More recently, Lena.

Now J’onn and M’gann happily share the armchair, grinning, watching their kids fight over blankets and pillows and space, resettling and rearranging until everyone fits, until everyone is comfortable. Only when the rustling stops, when their breathing slows…only when they’re content and warm…only then does someone push play. 

Tonight, Alex is cozied up on the couch with her little sister, just like when they were kids. Watching the same old movie, even sitting the same way: Kara curled up, her head in Alex’s lap, Alex unconsciously playing with Kara’s hair, and Kara with one hand tucked under Alex’s knee. She never knew—and still doesn’t know—why Kara does it, but she always has. This, right here, was the only thing that calmed her new alien sister all those years ago—dancing and singing and romance in black and white, the stillness of the room around her. Alex now suspects the simplicity of it all was comforting given the sensory overload Kara experienced most days on Earth—especially early on. 

Only tonight, like more and more of their nights lately, it’s not the two of them anymore.

Snuggled into Alex’s other side is Maggie, their legs intertwined down the shorter end of the L-shaped couch. Alex has her other arm around Maggie’s shoulders, with Maggie’s arm resting across her stomach. At the far end of the couch is Winn, legs kicked out over the coffee table, feet sticking out under the blanket he’s sharing with Lena. She sits crosslegged next to him, leaning onto his shoulder with a giant bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap. James is between Kara and Lena; the former’s feet up against one thigh and the latter’s knee resting on the other. His knees are bent, feet pushing against the edge of the coffee table, one arm behind his head, the other over the back of the couch behind Lena.

Alex sees J’onn watching them from the recliner in the corner, M’gann sitting across his lap—eyes closed, head tucked in his shoulder, her legs draped over the opposite side of the chair, and his arm over her shins. He settles his eyes on each of his kids in turn: Winn, Lena, James, Kara, Alex, then Maggie—snuggled up, content, and more than one blinking back sleep—and when he catches Alex looking back at him, he winks and she smiles.

She never would have thought all of them could be this relaxed, this…happy. She’d never even have guessed they’d fit on one couch—even one this big. Thinking back, she realizes it took Maggie and Kara bonding, and even Maggie and Alex fighting, for this moment to come together. She kisses Maggie on the top of her head, and leans into her fiancée.

Because now, movie nights and game nights and…well, most nights, quite frankly…consist of more. More people. More laughter. More spills. More tears. More hugs. More cuddles. More…love. 

So, so much more love than any of them ever thought they’d experience again.


End file.
